There was a stony, painful noise as Hamilton gritted his teeth, shaking his head. “I do not stand alone. Mun, you may speak for the empire and the heavens. But my words,” he said, forcing himself up, despite the onus of his chains, “are backed with hot blood!” An aurora of scarlet light burst forth from Hamilton’s breast, blinding his divine foe. He pushed his shackled arms forward, plunging them into the stream of light. “And MANLY! FIGHTING! SPIRIT!”

Every man ought to be a macho-macho man To live a life of freedom, machos make a stand Have their own life style and ideals, Possess the strength and confidence, life's a steal You can best believe that he's a macho man He's a special person in anybody's land

Hither came Conan the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandalled feet.

Get fucking fired up. No ... I mean it. Shoot yourself full of Toradol, get red in the face, and GET FIRED UP, GOD DAMMIT. You see this chair? (throws chair) I’M NOT LEAVING THIS STADIUM UNTIL BLOOD HAS BEEN SHED AND WE HAVE WALKED OUT OF THERE WITH ALL OF THE ENEMY’S GOLD AND WOMEN!

There were only two men in this world that made me wish that my chromosomes were double X so we could get some triple X action going so I could bear their children, and those men were Hulk Hogan and Arnold Schwarzenegger. As a child, those two were the best role model one could ever wish for. Larger than life, fought off evil, killed by the thousands. Every Saturday my eyes would be glued to the television screen with as Hulkster would run wild in the afternoon, and Arnold would come on screen to terminate past bed time. Yes, just thinking back on it makes me feel ever more fertile already.

You don't read the books or watch the movies looking for surprise plot twists — this is comfort food for hard-drinking assholes who wish they were tough guys but wouldn't want to seriously risk their lives, and I reckon I'm probably one of those.

At no point does the movie take itself seriously, nor is it even apologetic. It knows exactly what it is and accelerates full steam into an hour and a half of blood, guts, sex, drinking, smoking, and chugging beer out of skulls.

Gruff, antisocial loners who smoke, fight, and defy the authorities... It’s the definition of badass. As for that overwhelming demand, Kojima was kind enough to give people what they wanted. Here you can see one of the bonus features, where players get to control Cyborg Ninja, giving the fanboys a raging Solid Snake in their pants.

The next bit, though, is completely original to the show...this dude hangs up the phone, opens up the dumbwaiter, and GETS HIS STERNUM BUSTED TO HELL by Wolverine coming out holding a bottle by the neck. Wolverine then walks over to the dude, looks at the bottle, says 'Lousy year' and then drops it right on his junk. Then he casually grabs a turkey leg on his way up to go murder people. It is... the best thing.

Some rooms have hidden exits that'll lead you to secret rooms full of goodies. You'll need to discover all of these, as well as pick up the keys that spawn in the game every so often, to earn access to the Pleasure Dome. And what is the Pleasure Dome, you may ask? Well, it's a secret room where the floor cycles through a bunch of retina-burning colors, while bikini-clad women can be collected like the cash and gold bars you've been picking up throughout the game. Totally worth it.

I'd swoop down from on high, machine gunning racists, then jump off and kick the last survivor off the ledge and feel like Errol fucking Flynn. I was almost afraid of landing, in case I got bounced away on balls like a couple of hairy space hoppers.

And on the day Masaaki Endoh was born, the heavens rained holy fire of manliness and guitars. Jesus himself down and proclaimed that he was the Christ of Manliness, here to bring the coming age of Manly to the world as the second son of our lord, as the human son of God himself, no middleman. Here he is, teaching us the ways of the Book of Man, which he wrote himself in the year 2012 as he kicked away the meteorite that was goin to kill us all. WE MUST LEARN FROM HIM!﻿ MASAAKI MOTHER FUCKING ENDOH!!!

Predator. How could this be bad? It's fucking Predator! You look at the cover and think, 'Yeeeah. This game's gonna be awesome. This is a real man's game. This game will turn you into a sexual tyrannosaur' — like me.

On-screen he held so much authority so that he was not being ironic when he explained his theory of acting: 'Don't act. React.' John Wayne could react. Other actors had to strain the limits of their craft to hold the screen with him.

Most people are either too enthusiastic about manliness or too dismissive of it. They think that manliness is the only virtue, and all virtue, or they think it is the last stupid stereotype, soon to be as dead as a dodo. To study it well, the trick is not to get carried away to either extreme.

Community

Tropes HQ

TVTropes is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available from thestaff@tvtropes.org. Privacy Policy